


You are my horizon

by bloobeary



Category: One Direction
Genre: Highschool AU, It's all fluff, M/M, and fluff, closeting sort of, for like the majority of it, is that a thing? idk but tagging it anyways, louis likes to help, mention of suicide trigger warning, no one dies I promise, sad!harry, there's lots of kissing, they share classes, tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-26 12:35:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3851188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloobeary/pseuds/bloobeary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 10:59pm, a minute until Louis' shift ends, when the his phone rings.</p><p>AU where Louis works at the suicide hotline call center, and Harry needs saving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You are my horizon

Louis was fifteen when his mum sat him down at the kitchen table and took his hands in hers. She looked at him with soft eyes and a small smile on her lips, and Louis remembers panicking, because he couldn't think of having done anything that would've gotten him in trouble. If anything he'd spent the last two weeks sulking in his room after breaking up with his first boyfriend after what admittedly hadn't even been a real relationship. 

"You're a fixer, sweetheart." 

It's not something Louis understood at the time; what the hell does that mean? I'm absolute shit at wood tech, he thought. But it all made sense three years later when he turned in his application to the call center a few blocks away from his house, the box for 'suicide hotline' checked neatly. 

"It's one of the best things about you, dear, but remember to leave time to fix yourself too." 

He never paid attention to the second thing she'd told him that afternoon, always spending too long on the phone at work and choosing helping a friend over sleep. It's helping others that fixes him, he thinks. 

-

Louis' staring. It's really hard not to, because the boy that sits next to the window is absolutely breathtaking. He doesn't look up often, mostly just sitting with one palm up against his temple, his knuckles brushing his cute mop of curls, and the other holding his pencil, and scribbling whatever it is he does. His pens are always weird colors, and there's a Leeds bracelet (along with tons of others) on his wrist. Louis spends an embarrassing amount of time thinking about which gigs he saw, and if he happened to be at any of the ones Louis'd been to. Harry doesn't say much, in fact, he doesn't say anything at all except when he's called on. Louis just really wants to tear off Harry's hoodie and run his fingertips all over his skin.

"Mr. Tomlinson!" Louis snaps out of his train of thought when the teacher barks his name. 

"Sorry, what?" Louis says lamely, and gets a few snickers from classmates. They all know that Louis can't control his fond, but thankfully none of them have ever made any jokes about it. 

Mr. Fitz (Gerald, as Louis calls him) crosses his arms over his chest and gives Louis a pointed glare. "If you're done gawking at the clouds, it's your turn to read." 

Louis blinks and looks down at where Beowulf sits, still on the first page. A soft "thirteen" is murmured behind him, and he flips to it quickly. He clears his throat and starts to read at the top of the page, hoping that he's on the right paragraph. He doesn't get interrupted, so he assumes he's safe. 

"Alright, that's good." Gerald says, and Louis stops reading, his finger lingering on the word he was about to say."Literary devices used, Alissa, name a few." 

Louis doesn't mean to turn around again, but there he is, looking over at Harry. This time, Harry's eyes meet his, and it's the first time Louis has ever really looked at them. They're the most beautiful shade of green, and Louis thinks he could write a million poems about them given the chance. Harry looks down quickly, seeming to shrink in on himself, and Louis sighs, wrenching his attention back to the front of the room, where there are words on the blackboard.

"Right, who haven't we heard from...Ah! Harry, why don't you tell us what Grendel's mother symbolizes?" Gerald asks, and Louis whips around to look at Harry yet again.

And oh, oh no the poor kid looks like he's going to have a heart attack. "Uhm," He stutters, and looks down at his lap. He pulls his sleeves over his hands and Louis feels his own heart rate spike. "Evil, basically." He says, sparing Mr. Fitz a glance before looking back down.

Gerald nods approvingly a few times before scrawling it across the board. "Anything else?" Harry just shakes his head and sinks back down in his seat. Louis frowns a bit, because he could listen to Harry talk for ever.

-

Louis shoves a handful of chocolate covered almonds in his mouth before grabbing his keys and wallet and sprinting to his car. He'll be late to pretty much everything, just not to work. Far more important things hang in the balance there. 

He's greeted with a smile and a hellos from people not on the phone as he makes his way over to his assigned cubicle. He takes a deep breath and sits down, reaching over to turn his phone on. 

"Hey Lou," Eleanor says from across the gap between desks. "How was class?" 

Louis sighs and rubs his eyes. "Boring. Harry's still as cute and as quiet as ever." It comes out as a whine, and Eleanor chuckles. 

"Still pining after him, I see." 

Louis puffs his chest out a bit and pulls at his shirt. "He is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in my life." Eleanor opens her mouth to say something, but her phone rings, and her hand flies out to grab it. Louis smiles in her direction before turning to his own phone, praying that it'll be a slow night. 

He only gets three calls in the span of three hours, and he loves nights like this, when the majority of the chatter is coming from the people in the room. No dispatches are called, there are no screams. 

It's 10:59, a minute before Louis can go home and finish his stat homework, a minute before his shift ends, when his phone rings. 

"Hello, thank you for calling the--" Louis starts his usual spiel, but then there's a wet hiccup from the other side, and Louis' blood turns to ice because he knows this might not end well; he skips the introduction. "How can I help?" 

"Uhm, I--There's a lot." Something about the voice coming through his phone makes his toes go numb, but he can't place why.

"That's alright, I'm here to help you get through it, okay?" Louis toes his shoes off and crosses his legs under him. 

"What if I can't?" There's a sniffle. "Get through it, I mean?" 

"You can. Let me help you. You can do this." Louis feels a bit like he's reading from the script handed to him on his first day. "Maybe start by telling me what's wrong? You're safe with me, don't worry." 

There's crackling silence and a few deep breaths. "My s-stepdad he--he's not, uh, the most like, accepting guy there is and he's--I can't, he'll hate me and then my mother will hate me more than she probably already does and everyone at school will hate me and I--" 

"Hey, hey, breathe. Deep breaths, do them with me." Louis inhales and feels a pinprick of relief when he hears the boy on the other end do it too. They breathe for a minute. "Your family doesn't hate you, dear. They love you and I'm sure your friends do too, no matter what." 

"N-no." Louis doesn't know why, but he's sweating despite the fact that it's less than twenty degrees in the room. "They won't I'm--I can't tell them because oh god, I can't tell them." 

"Can't tell them what, hun?" Louis has a feeling he knows where this is going, and it's making him queasy. 

"About the girls. And how I--uh, don't." 

"Don't like girls?" Louis supplies, and there's a tiny yes. "Now what's so bad about that? Nothing wrong with it." 

"He already h-hates me, and n-now it'll be even worse." The boy chokes out, and Louis wants to hold the stranger until everything is okay. "'Nd I fucking manage to fuck everything else up he's already m-mad because I accidentally s-scratched his c-car and I c-can't l-live with it anymore." 

"When did you start feeling like this?"

"Few months ago. My parents are out for the rest of the week and they didn't even say goodbye. Feels like a good time to go through with it. But f-fuck I'm too weak to actually do it,"

"There is nothing weak about living. If anything it's the bravest thing you can do. And I am so happy you called."

"Honestly I just feel like I have nothing going for me, and m-my teachers have t-told me so, and so have my p-parents and they always compare me t-to my s-sister who is aces at every-thing. It's like I'm invisible to them unless I m-mess up and--it would all just be easier if I wasn't here, not like anyone would notice or care." 

"I don't think it would." Louis shifts in his chair. It's 11:17. He hears a scoff from the other line. "Your mum loves you, she carried you for nine months, yeah? That's got to mean something. Your house would be quieter, and weird without you there, and everyone in school would wonder where you are. Your teachers would definitely notice. And hey, I care. I care." 

"You don't even know me." He sounds so defeated, it hurts. 

"I would like to, if you would tell me." At this point Louis just wants to get his mind off dying. 

"Not much to tell. Not really good at anything in particular." 

"I'm sure you are, you just can't think of them right now, probably. What about things you like? Gotta be some of those, right?" 

"I like music. Went to the Leeds festival last year." That pops a red flag, but Louis ignores it because hundreds of people go to that, and just because Harry wears the bracelet does not mean that he's on the phone right now (Louis hopes). "It was the best day of my life, I think." 

"Then remember that. Close your eyes and make the moment happen again in your head." Louis closes his own eyes. "Eyes closed?" 

"Mhm."

"Alright now, think of the music of your favorite band playing around you, so loud it shakes your bones. Now imagine your feet in those god awful rubber boots, and the squelch of the mud under ya. And the sound of people singing along, and the faint smell of beer and fried stuff." Louis' there, he's there and he feels a bit floaty, because it was probably the best day of his life too. 

"Rise Against was my favorite." It's barely a whisper. 

"Mine too," Louis breathes, "Think of that whenever things get bad. Think of the lyrics to your favorite song." There's the sound of something clattering to the ground from the other line. "What else do you like? What's your favorite thing ever?" 

"Uh, I like reading. And drawing but I'm n-not good at it."

"If it makes you happy then it doesn't matter if you're good. I'm not the best at singing, but I do it anyways because it makes me smile, so." 

"I like that too," The boy mumbles, and Louis lets himself grin. 

"What's your favorite subject in school?" 

"Hah. Nothing good 'bout that place." 

"I'm sure there has to be something." Louis presses, chewing on his bottom lip. "I mean, at least try, right? You're there every day, might as well."

"Uhh...okay well, um, there's this...person." 

"Yeah?" Louis leans onto his desk. The midnight shift has already come in, and Louis knows he's taking up someone's seat, but he can't bring himself to transfer the call to someone else. 

"Yeah." It sounds like a sigh. "I think he's the most beautiful person I've ever seen." It's barely a whisper, and Louis smiles, because he can think of someone like that too. "When he laughs--fuck, he's--it's easier, with him in class. But not like I can have him or anything." And then, the tears start again, and Louis wants to put his fist through the wall. 

"I'm sorry." Louis whispers even though he's not supposed to. "You'll find someone, though. Someone who loves you unconditionally and thinks you're the most beautiful thing in the world." 

"Is that even possible? Doesn't feel like it." 

"It is. It has to be," Louis whispers the last part, and then there's a lot of silence. Louis can hear him breathing, though, so that's good. He looks at the clock, and his eyes widen. It's 11:45 and his mum has probably called him around eight times. He finds his phone and sends her a quick text, letting her know that he's okay before turning his attention back to the call. "Where are you right now, beb?" 

"Uh--in my bathtub. It's, uh, easier to clean up." 

Louis feels sick at that, and has to take a breath before talking. "Can you do me a favor?" 

"I guess, yeah." 

"Can you go to your room and make a cozy blanket burrito on your bed?" Louis hears a tiny giggle, and feels his heart swell in his chest because he's got him laughing, and if that's not a good sign, then he doesn't know what is. 

"Uh, okay." Louis' working on transferring the call to his cell phone--which is technically against the rules, but whatever, Liam taught him how to do it so why not. He waits to hear the same thing through his cell phone before hanging up the landline. "Done." His voice is muffled, and Louis hopes it's from the coziest blanket he owns. 

"Good," Louis makes it out the front doors and to his car. "Remember what we talked about earlier? The good things?" 

"Yeah," 

"D'you think you can hold on to those? Use them as a sort of base camp when things get bad?"

"It's really late." His question is ignored completely. "Don't you have other things to do?"

"No," It's a lie, because his stat book is sitting still open on his desk upstairs. Louis tiptoes through his house as silently as he can, and shuts himself in his room. "My priority is you right now." 

"Really?"

"Yes," Louis holds the phone between his shoulder and his ear while working on taking his clothes off. "I want to make sure you're okay. That you'll be okay."

"Thank you," It's a whisper, and the boy has started crying again. They don't say anything for the next hour or so, and Louis doesn't even realize he's humming while doing his homework. "I know that song, it's Look After You."

Louis smiles and puts his pen down. "Yeah, it's one of my favorites." Louis mumbles and checks his clock. He decides it's too early for math, and snaps his book shut and flicks his light off before crawling into his bed.

"Can you stay?" His voice is watery, and Louis wants to hug him desperately. "I, um. Don't trust myself being alone. Sometimes it just gets all too...evil."

The last word resonates in Louis' brain, and he feels the urge to throw up. "Yes, of course."

"Thank you,"

Louis doesn't fall asleep until he physically cannot keep his eyes open any longer. If it happens to be at four in the morning, then so be it.

He shows up to school the next day with 5% battery on his phone, and purple half-moons branded under his eyes. It seems to take years for the day to end, for him to finally get to the one class he shares with Harry on A-days. But Harry's not in chemistry, and Louis feels his heart drop into the foundation of the school.

"Is anyone seeing Harry later?" The teacher asks, and Louis finds himself with his hand in the air before he can even register it. "Could you take him these packets? They're the ones he missed today."

Louis nods frantically and goes up to get them. Harry's address and number are scribbled on a post-it on top of them, and Louis thanks the heavens for his teacher. The five minute drive to Harry's is dead silent, and Louis can hear his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. His hands are a bit sweaty when he knocks, and he doesn't let himself breathe until the door opens, and Harry is there. He's there, and alive, and there.

"Hi," Louis says, and Harry's mouth actually drops open. "I, um, have these for you. From chem." He holds out the packets, and it takes a minute for Harry to take them from him, holding them to his chest.

"Thanks." Harry manages, his eyes falling to the ground.

"I could help you with the homework, since you missed the explanations. If you want, I mean." Louis feels so nervous he thinks he might throw up the chocolate milk and peanut butter sandwich he had for lunch right there on Harry's shoes.

"Um," Harry looks over his shoulder, and eventually shrugs. "Thank you." He steps aside, and Harry lets him in. Louis hopes it's in more ways than one.

He hugs Harry when he leaves, not being able to resist pulling him into his chest as if to make sure that he is actually in fact real. "See you tomorrow, Curly."

Louis nearly skips into english class the next day, and smiles wide when he sees Harry sitting in his usual spot by the window. There's no one else in class really, so Louis beelines for the empty desk and drops his bag on it. Harry doesn't look up until Louis' scraping the desk over linoleum in order to get closer to Harry's. "Hello," Louis says cheerfully, dropping down into the chair and giving Harry a bright smile.

"H-hi." Harry stutters, surprised to see Louis so close to him. "What are you doing?" The whisper escapes him, and Louis reaches out to poke his cheek.

"Sitting next to you."

Harry just blinks at him, before handing him a sheet of paper from his notebook. Louis looks at it, perplexed, since he hasn't actually said anything.

"You always ask for one." Harry says it quietly, and Louis feels his heart skip, because he does. Usually the person sitting next to him, or behind him slides him a piece of loose leaf, and Louis thanks them with a grin. "I, uh. Yeah."

Louis smiles and catches Harry's hand before he has a chance to sit on it, and runs his fingers over his delicate knuckles softly. "Thanks, love." Harry just nods, and stares at their hands, but doesn't move away, so Louis considers it a win. He also considers the way Harry lets him press his knee against the side of his leg during the entirety of class, and walk him to his next one, a win.

The first time Louis kisses Harry, they're in his bedroom. Louis' in one of Harry's sweaters, the sleeves hanging off his hands in a way he can't bother to fix, and Harry is lying on his thigh, singing along to whatever indie band he's got on in the background (it's something by Tame Impala, but if anyone asks, Louis will deny that he knows that) with his hand wrapped loosely around his ankle. It's taken them four months to get to this level, of Harry being completely comfortable with Louis, even if there are still bad days. To anyone that asks, they're friends, but there's something about the way Harry holds onto Louis while he sleeps (if they happen to have a "sleep over", as Harry's mum calls those nights) that makes Louis think there's something more. Obviously, for him there is, he's been completely head over heels for Harry since he set eyes on him.

Louis sits up, and Harry makes a hum of protest, not bothering to move at all. Louis smiles down at him and folds over to lick his nose. That succeeds in Harry's eyes flying open, and a hand grab at the back of Louis' neck. They stay close like that for a few moments, until Louis can feel his muscles yelling at him for being folded over like that for so long. Louis takes a breath, and closes the gap between them, pressing his lips over Harry's softly. Harry doesn't move under him, but he doesn't pull away either, so Louis kisses him again, more insistent this time.

It's when he honestly can't stay in the position they're in that he pulls away, letting himself gasp a bit at Harry's swollen lips and hooded eyelids. "Baby, c'mere." Louis whispers, curling his fingers around Harry's wrist and tugging on it gently. Harry gets the hint and sits up, feeling a bit heavy and slow after all of that. He turns over so that he's on his side, and Louis is too, before Louis cups his cheek and kisses him again.

Harry doesn't mean to start crying, but ten minutes in, there are tears catching on their lips. "Sweet heart," Louis coos, pulling away and fitting Harry into his chest. He doesn't have to ask why he's crying, because the sound of the TV replaying some sort of sports game is still audible over the music, and Louis feels really dirty, suddenly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you without asking first." Louis soothes, rubbing his hand over Harry's slightly shaking back.

"N-no, I wanted you to. W-wanted to kiss you." Harry hiccups, nuzzling into Louis' chest, his voice muffled by skin and worn cashmere wool. "It's just."

"I know," Louis cuts him off, dropping a kiss to his hair before closing his eyes. "I know."

So Louis only kisses Harry when they're at his house, or whenever he's sure Harry's parents can't see them. He thinks they're doing well with hiding it, too, just until Harry's ready to actually tell his parents, for about two months.

"'M gonna get something to drink." Louis hums, pressing a kiss to Harry's hip before standing up and running a hand through his hair so he doesn't look too suspicious before walking down to the kitchen. He opens the fridge and grabs a bottle of water to take up to Harry's room, and turns around only to be met with Anne standing behind him. Louis nearly jumps out of his skin.

"Sorry, dear. Didn't mean to scare you." Louis just shakes his head and tucks his hands into his sides, still holding the water bottle somewhat awkwardly against his hip. It's going to soak though his shirt probably. "I just, need to ask you something."

Louis swallows past the steady growing knot in his throat, and nods, shifting his weight off one leg. He feels like he knows where this is going to go, and suddenly, he wants to pull the neck of his shirt up, the bruise on his collarbone burning through the fabric.

Anne takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, as if preparing herself, before exhaling and looking into Louis' eyes. "Are you...Are you and Harry--dating?" Louis has never seen an adult so nervous to be talking to a teenager before.

Louis blinks, and swallows thickly. He doesn't know if Harry would want him outing him in his stead, especially without knowing. Anne looks like she's about to cry, though, so Louis has to say something. He takes a breath, and looks at the stairs. "Yes." He hears Anne sigh in relief, and it's a surprise, really. "But please don't bring it up until he tells you, okay? We've, um, sort of been keeping it on the down-low until he's ready to come out to you guys himself, so."

He's got arms around him before he's even finished talking. "Of course, of course." Anne says, and it sounds like she's crying. Louis lets himself be hugged.

"Please be supportive though, when he does tell you? It's something that freaks him out a lot." Louis whispers, and Anne nods vigorously. "He won't even really talk to me about it..."

He shakes it off though, and puts a smile back on his face. Anne returns it, and squeezes his shoulder. "Don't hurt him, yeah?"

"I would never." Louis says it like it's a lifeline. In some says, it is.

Harry tells his parents two weeks after that. He insists that he can do it alone, but Louis worries anyways. He sends Harry a cheesy good luck text, and gets a heart in response. Then his phone is silent for about an hour, and Louis chews his nails down to the nub, pacing around his living room a little maniacally. It really wouldn't be such a big deal if it wasn't such a big fucking deal. So Louis paces.

He paces until his phone goes off with Harry's text tone. He doesn't leap over the coffee table to get it. Except he totally does.

From love: all went well, lots of tears and hugging x

Louis smiles so wide his cheeks hurt, and decides now is a good time as any to take Harry out to dinner. Harry blushes adorably when Louis feeds him chocolate cake, and lets him hold his hand over the table. It's a good night.

There's two minutes until Harry is supposed to be in Louis' car, so they can be on their way to school, and Harry still hasn't answered Louis' texts. His parents' cars are gone, meaning they already left for work, and as far as Louis can tell, Harry hasn't left yet. He waits in the driveway for another minute, before sighing and deciding to go see exactly what's going on. He knocks twice, and waits, but the door doesn't open and he doesn't get an armful of Harry like he usually does. There's a pair of metal boots that hold a tiny plant next to the door, so Louis lifts it up as best he can and smiles triumphantly when he finds the key.

The air inside the house is eerily quiet, and Louis feels dread settle over him like a second skin. He says Harry's name softly before walking up the stairs. He doesn't let himself breathe until he finds Harry in his bed, chest rising and falling slowly. Louis smiles and kicks his shoes off before closing the door and snuggling up to Harry's back. "Not feeling up to it today?"

"Can't." Harry whispers, and Louis just nods, pressing a kiss to his neck. It's not the first time this has happened, but it's the first time Louis' stays. "You're not gonna go?"

"No, baby." Louis croons, running his fingers over Harry's arm lightly. "My priority is you."

Harry lets out a strangled gasp at that and pushes him away from Louis so violently that he falls off the bed. His head pops up and he looks at Louis with slightly crazy eyes. "Y-you--how do you--wh--" Harry sounds like he's going to choke. It's all very confusing to Louis, until, it hits him like a truck. His mouth falls open. "W-were you? Was that you?" Harry asks, making a bit more sense now.

Louis sighs and sits up, trying to figure out how exactly he was going to explain this to Harry. It's not like he was going to keep it a secret forever. He just didn't want it to end up like this. And from the look for Harry at the moment, this is definitely not a good way for him to find out. "Yes." Louis breathes, finally. Harry makes a wheezing noise and claps a hand over his mouth.

"Were you just not going to tell me?" Harry whispers, pulling his knees up to his chest on the ground. It's then that Louis realizes how vulnerable this boy is, his boy, his favorite boy. He sometimes lets the fact that he skipped a grade trick him into thinking Harry's as old as Louis is.

"No, love, I was." Louis sits on his ankles in front of Harry. "Just. Not yet. I didn't want you to freak out like this." Louis pulls at Harry's hand until he lets go of his leg, and runs his thumb over Harry's knuckles.

"Please tell me that's not the only reason you're dating me." Harry hiccups, and that's when Louis realizes he's crying. He knows the sound all too well.

"No!" He almost shouts it, and manages to pull Harry into his lap. "No, no." He repeats it, burying his nose into Harry's curls. He smells like sleep and apples. "I didn't even know it was you, until you fell asleep. I mean, I recognized your voice, but I couldn't really place it at the time. But no, that's not the reason I'm dating you. God, Harry, I've been about you since you walked into english thirty minutes late and dropped your books on Gerald's desk. I've been into you since you fell off your stool in chem because you were leaning too far to try and see the demo. I was just too lame to say anything to you, because. Well, I didn't think someone as beautiful as you would even want to talk to me."

Louis' barely finished talking when Harry kisses him, lips a little wet from crying, but there all the same. "So you know?" Harry asks, breathlessly, and Louis blinks at him. "That I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen?"

Louis nods, and laughs and tilts Harry's chin up for another kiss. "You know I think you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen? So one of us is wrong, and I think it's you." Harry mumbles for him to shut up into his mouth, and Louis thinks this ended better than he thought it was going to.

-

"Louehh!" Harry calls from their kitchen, head still stuck in the fridge. He hears a faint 'oi oi!' from down the hall, and smiles, knowing not to yell again because Louis' already on his way over.

"What's up, beb?" Louis asks, putting a warm hand on Harry's back. He looks very comical right now, bum sticking straight out of the fridge clad in duckling underpants.

"Did you drink all our milk?" Harry stands up, frowning down at Louis and crossing his arms over his bare chest. It always takes Louis a second to talk when he has to look up at Harry to do it. He remembers two years back, when he was the one that picked up Harry and walked him to the bed. Now, Harry's legs are long enough to poke into his side when he's standing by the night table, and Harry's on the bed.

Louis pulls his hands out from under his forearms and kisses them softly. "Maybe," He murmurs, looking up at Harry through his eyelashes.

Harry whines, "No, you don't get to do that." Louis looks up again in question, and Harry sighs. "I'm trying to be annoyed at your here."

"I know," Louis winks and kisses Harry on the cheek. Harry huffs and grabs Louis' hips to press him closer.

"Well, now I can't make you breakfast." Harry says, and that gets Louis frowning.

"You don't need milk to make eggs, silly."

Harry sighs, and his shoulders sag in defeat. Louis just giggles and presses a kiss to the edge of his jaw, biting softly. He kisses up to behind his ear, and that gets Harry whining. "You're very lucky you're cute." Harry breathes, and his hands slide down to cup Louis' bum. 

"S'that the only reason you're keeping me around? Cos I'm cute?" Louis asks, pulling away and tilting his head to the side. "Because I can think of lots of other places my cuteness would be appreciated, thank you very much."

Harry just sighs and kisses him to shut him up. It's really the other way around, Harry wants to say, that Louis' just holding him down because Harry's cute. Instead he lets Louis lick into his mouth lazily.

"Keep you around 'cause I love you." Harry slurs, nuzzling into Louis' neck so that his lips are pressed up against Louis' jugular. "And because you keep me sane." In any other situation, Louis would've joked about being the prime time to suck his blood and accused him of being a vampire, but not right now. Not at nine in the morning on a saturday after waking up in their own flat together.

"I love you more." Louis murmurs, pressing a kiss to Harry's temple.

Harry has a mouthful of eggs when Louis says something that makes him spit them out. "I'm going to marry you, okay?"

Harry coughs and covers his mouth with a napkin so that no more half-chewed food goes flying. "W-what?"

Louis giggles and hooks his foot around Harry's ankle. He puts his elbow on the table and rests his chin against a closed fist, and smiles at Harry. He's never been so in love, really. "I'm going to marry you." Louis repeats it, and Harry feels like he's going to throw up. "Not now, obviously. But someday. Soon, probably."

"Better put a ring on it, Tomlinson." Harry says, feeling himself blush as Louis scoffs and pokes his thigh with his other foot. Harry catches his ankle and runs his thumb over the sharp bone.

"You bet your cute ass I will, soon-to-be-Tomlinson." Louis winks, and Harry feels a bit faint from imagining Louis' last name tacked onto his own. Louis beams over at him, and Harry smiles back. It's amazing to see how far they've come together. It hasn't necessarily been the easiest, or more traditional sort of relationship, but Louis wouldn't have it any other way. He looks into Harry's eyes, soft and still a bit tired around the edges, and he feels himself being overwhelmed with love for him. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you too, Louis."

**Author's Note:**

> title and pretty much all of the fic based off of "Edge of Tonight"//All Time Low  
> (also go listen to the Future Hearts album if you haven't already because it's BOMB AF) 
> 
> literally all i've been writing lately is fluff but if you bear with me for a bit there's a fwb fic coming soon so


End file.
